


Security

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dom Loki (Marvel), Established Relationship, F/M, Just a bit of Dom Loki, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:09:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: The God of Mischief has missed you, and he isn't waiting until after work to have his fill of you.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 90





	Security

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a writing challenge on tumblr!

Flashing lights blinded you from the comfortable haven of your tiny poorly-lit office, prompting you to pull out your noise-canceling headphones to pinpoint the cause for your next migraine.

_"-report to your designated safety locations. This is not a drill. Security breach. Please report to your designated safety locations.”_

Oh. Shit. _That_ hadn’t ever happened before. Sure, there had been drills, but the exact steps you were meant to take flew out your mind with each screech of the alarm in between Friday’s calm instructions. Slamming your laptop shut on your cluttered desk, you fled the room, joining the stream of harried Stark staff taking to the halls.

Following the anxious crowd was all you could do. Hopefully someone at the front knew where you were supposed to be going. Your top teeth worried your bottom lip as your gaze darted from clenched hands to wild hair to dropped jaws to wide eyes.

And then you were pulled into total darkness. A hand clasped around your upper arm yanked you out of the crowd efficiently, not even disrupting the panicked stampede, and the vibrations of hundreds of feet reverberated against the cool wooden door digging into your shoulder blades.

 _Security breach. This was that guy. Fuck. No no_ no

“Hel-”

Cool hands went from restraining to reverent, tracing up the clenched muscles of your stomach, over your heaving breasts, to map the soft flesh of your flexed neck and silence your shocked cry.

_Loki._

You’d know the cedarwood and spice that scented his hair anywhere, especially teasing against your nose with the dip of his head. Nose nudging along your cheekbone, grazing against the side of your head while a wicked smirk sought the shell of your ear.

“Hush now, little dove.”

You swallowed the desire that crept up from deep within at his elegant voice of roughened silk, sending the molten heat to gather in between your clenching thighs instead. It took another shaky breath and the blink of your eyes into the inky blackness to gather your thoughts against the press of his body, long and lithe, into yours. 

Leather-coated thigh between skin-tight jeans. Unyielding armor catching a too-thin blouse. Nipping teeth to flexing jawline.

Hands scrabbled against straps and plates and buckles in desperation. You just didn’t know whether it was to push him away or drag him closer. Always closer and yet never close enough.

Panting. Pleading. “There’s a breach. It isn’t safe.”

“Yes. Stark’s pathetic excuse for technology is so easily fooled.” A long, slow lick against your racing pulse point to send shivers down the bow of your spine.

Deft fingers dragged between aching breasts, splitting your rolling stomach to flick open the button of your jeans. Your head lolled back against the door. Drunk. Intoxicated by the grind of his hips against yours, the rumble of pleasure into you from the mess he found between your legs, his name spilled into a supple, oiled leather collar.

“I’m too sober for this.” A thought there and gone in an instant, spoken simply to give your mind more room to process the pleasure the pad of his thumb could elicit against your throbbing pearl.

A throaty chuckle and a searching finger into your clenching heat. “You don’t even drink.”

“Maybe I should start.”

Did you say that? You weren’t sure. Loki was everything in front of you, around you, and the sudden silence at the door only amplified the sound of your blood pounding in your ears to the beat of his pumping fingers.

Hot breath fanned across your face, and you lifted your chin just enough to meet him in a demanding kiss. You’d expected it, his hunger, after the extended mission with Thor. It brought out the wilder side of him, desperate and hungry to swallow your pleasure and take it for his own. The curl of his tongue at the seam of your lips drew you into his world, chocolate and cinnamon and _Loki_ that settled deep in the tight cavern of your fluttering need.

“They’re returning to work now. You have to be quiet for me.”

Was that even possible against the rolling waves of pleasure gaining in intensity as they ravaged your body? You certainly couldn’t stop your soft whimpers - didn’t want to try. Eyes screwed shut against the tumble of colors popping across your skin at the sudden crash of your release. Thank goodness for broad shoulders to catch your forehead and strong hands to hook under your thighs, lifting you up easily to pin you between a god and a hard place.

Your favorite spot to be, to be honest.

And his was settled within your pulsing walls, stretching and filling and searing and sating with your legs wrapped around the dip of his hips. Head dropped to your shoulder and open-mouthed kisses claiming your collarbones. Pleasure and pain tangled together to pour out of you in plaintive cries as he left you wanting, only to give you all of him just a moment later.

Calloused fingertips laced with metal from flashing daggers rasped against you from his silencing hand curled over your kiss-swollen lips.

His commands to silence, sugar sweet and whisper soft, rolled off of you like the sweat beading between the burst buttons of your blouse. It was everything in you to hold on, to him, to your sanity, to consciousness as he drew another wave of burning euphoria from you with the pump of his pelvis.

Jutted jaw glanced against your earlobe to bite your name in paralyzing pleasure.

Tingling sorcery straightened skewed clothes, erased the remnants of your rendevous, but nothing would remove the red raised mark on your jawline. Just how he liked it. Soft kisses peppered along your face, eyelids, nose, forehead, temples, lips. Praising you and soothing you with gentle declarations of love. The faint outline of his tumble of hair was visible if you looked hard enough, and it dipped with the curl of his arms around you to draw you close despite your trembling legs.

A quiet hum. “I missed you.”

Small hands smoothed over his spine. Safe, complete, flushed in his embrace. “I missed you too.”


End file.
